


The Devil's Making

by Lilith_Child



Category: Supernatural
Genre: (But You Know Who Everyone Is), Alternate Universe - Historical, M/M, no names are mentioned
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-07
Updated: 2015-07-07
Packaged: 2018-04-08 04:07:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 744
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4290231
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lilith_Child/pseuds/Lilith_Child
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The day his brother remarked on the chill in the New World was the day he saw the devil. </p>
<p>It wasn’t the first time that the boy had seen him, though he knew - somehow - that it would be the last.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Devil's Making

**Author's Note:**

> Here's something that I wrote last night.
> 
> I own nothing, and all mistakes are mine.
> 
> The title comes from a book that I was reading at the same time.

The day his brother remarked on the chill in the New World was the day he saw the devil. Many things rushed through the boy’s - not yet a man, no matter how much he desperately wanted to prove himself - head, but only one came out.

“So, you’re back.”

He didn’t mean to say it.

To his surprise, the devil smiles, and despite himself, the boy couldn’t stop the immoral flutter in his stomach at the sight of it.

“I am,” the devil replied.

It wasn’t the first time that the boy had seen him, though he knew - somehow - that it would be the last. The air between them was thick and heavy, stormy with ‘I’m sorry’s’ and guilt and regrets and things gone too long unsaid.

They both started to speak at the same time. The devil’s voice was rich, smooth and slow-moving - the boy’s name on his tongue - and the boy’s voice was brimming with emotions too long-suppressed. 

“You first,” the devil said, motioning with his hands for the boy to speak. It was hesitant, like he had seen it done but was unsure of how to do it himself. The devil, the boy knew, was an incredibly quick study.

The boy drew in a deep breath, and changed his mind about what he would say. Please stay, he wanted to beg. Instead, what came out was, “I need to go back.”

He hesitated, drawing in another breath. The devil was silent, watching him. Something akin to disappointment and hurt flickered in his eyes. “My brother - he’s waiting for me,” the boy stuttered out. He had forgotten how to talk, with the weight of the devil’s gaze on him.

“Surely, he can wait a few more minutes,” the devil purrs. Whatever emotion he had felt earlier was gone now, covered up, and in its place was amusement. Temptation.

Sin, the boy’s mind filled in for him.

“No, he can’t. I’m sorry.” He said it again. There was more meaning behind it now. It weighed heavily in his mouth, like a stone. “I’m sorry.” The boy’s eyes burned, and he dropped his gaze to the ground. He would not cry. Not here, not now, and especially not in front of him.

The devil’s tempting, playful tone had vanished just as quickly as his earlier moods had.

“I know,” he said. The devil’s voice was quiet, empathetic. 

The words hung between them, taking up more room than they should have been able to. The boy wanted to cling to the being in front of him, and beg him never to let the boy go. But instead, he stayed where he was, looking at the ground.

The devil smiled gently, sadness in his eyes. Quickly, before the boy had time to process, the devil’s hands were on his shoulders as he stretched up. He hesitated on his toes, giving the boy room to pull back, before he gently pressed his cold, cold lips to the boy’s forehead.

The boy didn’t have time to process his indignation at being treated like he was five, not nearly twenty, before the devil pulled back. He stayed close to the boy, though. Close enough that the boy’s breath misted on the devil’s face. The devil didn’t breathe. He had told the boy that he never had, and the boy believed him.

“Goodbye,” the devil whispered.

“Goodbye,” the boy echoed, around the lump in his throat. His face was wet, and he knew that the tears were slipping out.

It didn’t matter though, because no one was there to see it. As soon as the word had left the boy’s mouth, the devil had faded completely. The boy hadn’t even noticed the slow, steady progression of it over the months previously. It had only been today, the first time he had seen the devil in nearly a year, that he had noticed how transparent he had gotten. It didn’t matter now, though. 

The devil was gone with the wind.

The boy tilted his head back, looking at the still-visible moon, even in the early morning light. He thought that he could see a pair of sad blue eyes imprinted onto the moon’s full face, but when he blinked, they were gone.

As a hermit thrush called in the brush above him, the boy turned and walked slowly home, back to his absent father and brother.

-

That night, it snowed for the first time. 

And, in the morning, they found the body.

**Author's Note:**

> Hermit thrush are supposed to have a sad bird call. Personally, I don't hear it, but _symbolism _, dammit!__


End file.
